America Gets Sick
by hipeople24
Summary: What happens when America eats one too many burgers. He gets sick, of course. But, you know, there are two different meanings behind "getting sick"


America gets sick

_Hello there. My name is hipeople24. Before you read this fanfiction, you should know the backstory behind it. *enter dramatic music* _

_It was a warm, sunny day in my hometown (location undisclosed). My friend (Lets call her Mary) and I were walking to McDonalds, being silly and such. Mary is the one that introduced me to both the world of anime and the world of fanfictions. It was in love at first…read? Yeah, don't really know how to say that without sounding creepy. But anyway, back to the story. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and I was DYING of heat exhaustion. My friend was telling me about a new fanfic that she had read about America. _

"_I was reading this story about America being sick…"_

"_Wait a second," I had interjected, "What do you mean by America being sick. Do you mean like 'cough, cough' being sick or like 'blegh' being sick."_

_She had laughed at me and retorted, "I meant the first one. Who would want to hear about America puking?"  
I smiled devilishly and said, "I bet you everyone wants to read about America puking." I then went on to describe the sensation of puking to her. _

_She laughed and said, "I dare you to write a story like that and put it online."_

_And so, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you 'America gets sick'_

Blah, Blah, Blah. America was bored _out of his mind_. Britain was standing in front of the chalkboard, talking about the best way to defeat the axis powers. Ha. Like he could ever come up with any decent battle plan. He had lost to America in the Revolutionary war, after all.

"Like dude, that won't work. You totally need someone to act as the bait. The Axis will never fall for it if it's a straight out charge." America interjected, standing up. Everyone in the room turned to look at him, still not used to his random outbursts yet.

The worst part was, America was actually right.

"Well then, who should be the bait?" Russia said, his face creepily calm as he looked expectantly towards America.

America grinned widely at Russia. "Dude, I've already thought that over. Obviously, that job goes to Britain."

Britain glared angrily at America. "Why is it 'obviously' me? I propose that France does it. They aren't good for anything else, anyway."

"Hey! vhat is zat supposed to mean? Ve are better zan you vill ever hope to be."

France and Britain started to argue about which country was better, the original purpose of the meeting long forgotten. France pushed Britain, the country almost landing on top of Canada. Canada yelped quietly, jumping out of the way of the bickering countries.

Canada stopped walking once he was safe, exhaling with a sigh of relief. He had managed to avoid the two that were currently fighting, completely unscathed.

He heard maniacal laughter behind him, so he turned to see who it was. His eyes met with Russia's purple ones. Canada cowered in a corner, clutching his bear tightly. The allied powers were all insane.

America observed all that was going on, the stupid grin still plastered across his face. Without removing his eyes from France brutally hitting Britain, he reached down by his side to reach for a hamburger.

An entire pile of burgers had miraculously appeared in front of him, the pile teetering from the weight of all the hamburgers stacked on one another. America's eyes were transfixed on the two fighting countries, all the while, shoving hamburger after hamburger into his mouth.

Oh god. He really loved the taste of hamburgers. They were meaty and greasy and they slid down his throat easily. The best part was that they needed minimal effort to chew and swallow. America couldn't think of anything better than a nice American hamburger.

Right now, America was in heaven. He was watching Britain get the crap get beat out of him while consuming ungodly amounts of fast food. If he were to die right now, he would die a happy man.

Suddenly, America felt a strange sensation in his stomach. It was bubbling and making strange noises. He put down a half-eaten hamburger, clutching at his stomach. America deduced that it wasn't hunger that he was feeling, so just what was it?

His stomach clenched, a sickening taste catching in the back of his throat. He fought to swallow it down, but it continued to burn inside of his esophagus. A groan escaped his lips, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

"A…Am…America? I…Is something…wrong?" Canada asked timidly, shuffling awkwardly to his brother's side. "Y…You don't look… so well."

"Dude, that's 'cause I don't feel well." America groaned, swallowing back the taste that continued to linger in the back of his throat.

"Ha! Serves you right, you bloody American prick!" Britain screamed joyously.

"For vonce, I actuavy agree vith Britain." France butted in with a snort of contempt.

"Dudes, I hate you all." America said, coughing. He could feel something rising from his stomach, sliding up his throat and into his mouth. The horrible taste multiplied. Bitter, chunky liquid rushed to his mouth, saturating his taste buds with the burn of bile.

With one more involuntary clenching of his stomach, copious amounts of puke spewed from his mouth, splattering on the floor in front of him.

Gasps of disgust filled the room as all the other countries rushed away from the vomiting American.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and in strode Italy, followed shortly afterwards by Germany, who was shaking his head slowly, and Japan, who simply stood there silently, looking over everyone in the room.

Germany immediately noticed what was going on and grabbed Italy by the scruff of his neck. Italy didn't even protest at the rough manhandling, he just sat there smiling and waving his ever-present white flag.

"Ve are sorry. Ve seem to have come at a bad time. Ve vill ve on our vay now." With that flustered statement, Germany proceded to drag Italy out of the room, with a solemn Japan following shortly after.

The entire room was filled with an awkward silence, with all the inhabitants simple staring at one another, waiting for someone to do something.

It was China who finally broke the tense silence."That is what you get for eating only junk food all the time." China quipped in, smiling at America's obvious discomfort.

The only thing that America could muster to do was raise his middle finger to all the inhabitants of the room.


End file.
